


Merry Christmas, Dad

by lavenderlotion



Series: Lav's Soft Holiday Gift Fics [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bottom Sheriff Stilinski, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Praise Kink, Teasing, Top Stiles Stilinski, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:48:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21959143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion
Summary: There was soft Christmas music playing, the light from the tree casting everything in a low glow, and he was too comfortable to even think of standing up.
Relationships: Sheriff Stilinski/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Lav's Soft Holiday Gift Fics [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1580710
Comments: 13
Kudos: 157





	Merry Christmas, Dad

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Enchantedtalisman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantedtalisman/gifts).



> I _really_ hope I did justice to Sheriff being a power bottom!

John threw his head back, moaning loudly as his son’s dick pressed up against his prostate, the pressure so, so good as he held himself in place. He rolled his hips, flexing his thighs and laughing as Stiles’ nails dragged down his skin, his boy gasping and withering under him. With a deep breath, John managed to pry his eyes open and look back down and—

God, Stiles was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen. He stared, moving his hips in a slow roll that had his baby gasping, mouth dropping open prettily. John thumbed over Stiles’ bottom lip, bending his wrist forward so he could press the pad of his thumb onto Stiles’ tongue. Stiles, perfect boy that he was, closed his lips around John’s thumb and sucked, looking up at him through heavy lids, eyes dark with lust. 

“Beautiful,” John panted, struck by just how breathtaking he looked with the lights from the tree shining off his hair and casting him in a warm glow, the reds and greens bleeding together to create a soft light that drew attention to Stiles’ flushed cheeks. “You look stunning, baby.”

Stiles moaned around his finger, his hips jerking up and burying himself deeper into John’s ass. They both groaned as the sensation, and John clenched his rim just to hear his baby cry out. Stiles was breathless, close to coming, fingers digging into John’s skin sharp enough to leave bruises along his thighs. It made him grin, and he got back to work, lifting himself up and dropping himself back down, fucking himself on Stiles’ cock as his son’s body got tenser and tenser as he tried to hold himself off. 

“C’mon, Sti, you’re being such a good boy,” John cooed, stroking his hair back from his forehead and twisting his fingers into the longer strands. “You’re amazing, so, so good for me. You always fill me up so good, you know that?”

“Uh-huh,” Stiles groaned, more confident than he’d once been, when all he’d been able to do when John told him how good he was was to hide his face. Now he met John’s eyes and rolled his hips, just a little, just a tease. John grinned widely down at him, rolling his hips and clenching his ass. “F-fuck, Dad, you feel so good.”

Stiles moaned, and John leaned down to give him a quick kiss, licking over his lips before whispering, “Are you going to make me come?”

Stiles nodded, nipping John’s bottom lip. John chuckled and moved back, resting his hands on Stiles’ knees after he’d planted his feet on the couch. When that didn’t feel like enough leverage he gripped the back of the couch so he could move faster. Stiles’ hands trailed up his thighs, pressing into his pubic bone before closing in on his dick. 

His hand was tacky with half-dried lube, but John was leaking enough that the smooth glide of his baby’s palm was enough to have him seeing stars. He kept up his pace, fucking himself roughly, angling his hips to hit his prostate again and again, and talking Stiles through stroking his dick. “That’s good, baby,” he praised, “more pressure against the slit,” he instructed,  _ “fuck,  _ that’s amazing,” he moaned. 

Stiles’ hands were losing rhythm and he was breathing heavier, eyes shut tightly and jaw clenched. John grinned down at him, rolling his hips in a slow grind that made his baby sob. “You’re being such a good boy.”

“Please Daddy,” Stiles gasped, fingers not doing much more than holding his length, clearly too close to focus on anything but his own pleasure. “Please, please, can I come, I wanna, wanna fill you up, please—” Stiles trailed off into a groan, overwhelmed, but John knew what he wanted and continued the fantasy. 

“Yeah, that’s it, baby. Come inside and fill me up, and I know you wanna get me fat with come don’t you, that’s it,” John praised and that was that, Stiles was coming hard, whole body shaking under him against the couch, crying out and panting for air as he shot warm into John’s hole. 

He groaned himself, loving the feeling as much as Stiles did, and started back with the instructions once Stiles was shaking through the last dredges of his orgasm. It didn’t take much longer to finish, not when Stiles was doing everything he asked so perfectly even if he was fucked out and half out of it, laid out under him like sin personified, breathless and panting, mouth dropped open and eyes glazed over. 

Stiles stroked over his head one, twice, and then he was shuddering through an orgasm, pushing himself down to get Stiles as deep as possible, hole clenching around amazing girth as he painted Stiles’ chest in his seed. He fell forward, ignoring the protest in his knees and bending so he could rest his forehead against Stiles’ neck, breathing in the scent of his release and Stiles’ musk with a happy rumble from his chest. 

Stiles hand pet down his back sweetly, helping John straighten out his legs so he was laid out over Stiles’ front more comfortably. They both made noises of protest when Stiles slipped free, and John knew there was gonna be a come stain on the couch but he couldn’t bring himself to move. There was soft Christmas music playing, the light from the tree casting everything in a low glow, and he was too comfortable to even think of standing up. 

“Merry Christmas, Dad,” Stiles murmured against his ear, lips brushing his skin. When John managed to pry his eyes open, the clock read 12:01. 

“Merry Christmas, baby,” John wished back, snuggling closer. “Wake me up in ten minutes.”

“Sure thing, old man,” Stiles teased.

John nipped his collarbone and with a laugh said, “Don’t test me, brat.”

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi to me on [tumblr](https://lavender-lotion.tumblr.com/)!  
> comments and kudos are much appreciated!


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